


Long Summer

by 7Moments



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Swearing, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7Moments/pseuds/7Moments
Summary: Nearly three years after the events of Night in the Woods, Lori finally gets to fulfill her dream of officially studying film, for a short while at least. But if she wants to enjoy herself and truly learn something, she'll have to let go of her crippling fears of social interaction, failure and... oh my... relationships?Lori teams up with a new cast of characters in this semi-sequel to both NitW and my previous story, Lori M.
Relationships: Lori Meyers/Original Character
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Lori goes to town

Lori jolted awake as the coach roared, the machine suddenly shifting up a gear. She wasn’t sure how long she had been out, but it was more than long enough for the scenery to have dramatically changed outside the windows. Instead of endless trees and verdant fields basking in the summer sun, she could see miles upon miles of flat roofed buildings and asphalt roads as the coach glided down the highway.

So this was the city.

“I don’t want you going to no city,” rang the memory of her father’s stern words in her head, as clear as day.

“I’m 17, Dad. I’ve got to leave at some point. This is my best shot for now.”

“What’s wrong with Possum Springs anyway?”

“Everything! Nothing! There’s nothing here for me now!”

“And you really think this… two week… film course… is going to be helpful?”

“It’s what I want to do.”

“Films don’t pay. Not for most people.”

“It’s what I have to do, Dad.”

“What can you really learn in two weeks anyway? From this…” he glanced down at the pamphlet Lori had handed him like it was a dirty rag, “Wait a second… Jimmy Burr? Isn’t he that weirdo director?”

“He’s a pro. He’s going to help us make our own short films. And… I don’t know… maybe if it’s good enough… if I’m good enough… I can go to real film school when the time comes.”

“How do you know this summer school will even take you?”

“I already signed up and got accepted. I paid for it with some of the money Mom left me years ago.”

“You what?!”

“I’m heading down next Saturday.”

And so with much grumbling, her father had helped her pack up an old canvas bag, taxied her out to the bus station and waved her off after a grunted farewell and a surreptitious kiss on the cheek. She wasn’t too concerned about the slightly cold goodbye. Her father had been distant from her for a long time, between work and her natural preference for lonesomeness. She wondered if he would actually miss her when she was gone.

Lost in her thoughts as usual, Lori became dimly aware that the coach had left the highway now and seemed to be slowing down in a leafy, upmarket looking area of town, not too far away from what she guessed must be the city centre, where all the tallest buildings were. But it was only when the coach ground to a halt that she realised she must be there. Church University-where she would be spending the next two weeks learning to become a “real” artist.

It was one hot afternoon in the height of summer and the intimidating structures all around simultaneously cradled her in shadow and roasted her with trapped heat as she stepped off the coach, bag over one shoulder, muttering a quick “thanks” to the driver before shuffling towards a door off the street marked “Reception” set into an old granite building whose first floor had been renovated with floor-to-ceiling glass windows and doors, giving the interior a roomy, modern feel. 

Lori approached the large desk running neatly parallel to one wall, which was manned by a rather bored looking young man in a shirt and tie.

“Excuse me,” she let the bag slide down her arm and plopped it onto the floor.

“Here for the summer classes?” the man replied, only briefly glancing up from his computer.

“Yeah.”

“Subject?”

“Film studies.”

“Name.”

“Lori Meyers.”

“ID please.”

Lori fished her provisional license out of her jeans pocket and slapped it on top of the desk. The man reached up and slid it off, scanned it for a second, then handed it back.

“Thanks. You’re in dormitory block twelve, room four. Right across the street, up the stairs in front of you. Your friends left a note for you, by the way,” he placed a folded piece of paper on top of the desk.

“What?” Lori raised her eyebrows sceptically, license halfway back into her pocket, not sure if she’d heard right.

“Your friends. The other three who are in block twelve with you. They all arrived this morning, decided to head into town a while ago to look around before collecting their keys.”

Lori slowly moved the paper towards her before picking it up and unfolding it, feeling this might be someone’s idea of a joke. She scanned the words on the page, written in a loopy but graceful hand:

"Hi! We’re your summer roomies from block 12. Us three already got acquainted this morning and we’re looking forward to meeting you too! Hope this isn’t too forward but when you turn up, come join us for coffee, if you like. Look for us with the iced strawberry mochas."

-Ellen, Max, George

There was an address under the names of her three to-be room-mates, which Lori assumed was for a coffee shop in town. 

She got a strange feeling in her gut. Only just arrived and she was already having to make tough decisions about social situations. 

On the one hand, they were complete strangers to her and, for all she knew, could be very strange at that. 

On the other hand, they had invited her to a public place and were presumably enrolled on the same course she was, so there was nothing inherently creepy about the invitation. 

And, she reasoned, she might as well try and get along with people she would be sharing at least some part of her life with for two weeks. If she felt really uncomfortable, she decided, she could just make an excuse and leave after a quick drink.

“They’ve not been gone long?” she looked back over at the receptionist.

“Nah. They waited for a bit to see if you would turn up, then left about an hour ago. They haven’t been back to pick up the room keys yet, so they must still be out.”

“I’ll just go look for them,” Lori sighed in a resigned tone, “Can I leave my bag here?”

“Sure, chuck it in storage there,” he gestured airily to a door in the wall to the left of the desk.

Lori did just that, thanked the receptionist (he grunted in response), punched the address on the paper into her phone’s map and headed back out into the heat.

Time to explore the city.

Lori was used to growing up surrounded by buildings that were not much taller than the trees that enveloped them. She was used to walking in the woods at night and peering into the bushes, imagining that someone was there, just out of sight, waiting to pounce. She was used to hearing the rumble of trains racing past her bedroom window at all hours of day and night and pretending it was some kind of monster. 

Suddenly, being in a place where most of the trees were made of concrete and steel made her feel incredibly small, smaller than she’d ever felt before. She was used to being alone, but never in a place so densely filled with people, deep in thought or conversation or hurried messages on their phones, and the intense feeling of loneliness that washed over her only served to quicken her step as she hoped that she would actually meet someone who she might get along with.

She was certain she could never get used to the constant honking of horns, or to actually having to wait to cross the road because there were now more than three rust-bucket cars trundling along at the same time, or to the enormous diversity of outfits and accessories on display as people who looked like they had more money than Lori had seen in her entire life strode past on their way to work, to cafés, to actual department stores filled with suits and dresses and expensive perfumes and what else Lori could only imagine. 

As usual when placed outside of her comfort zone, Lori began to feel incredibly nervous and small, her breath coming in short, sharp rasps, hands in pockets as she scurried along, only pausing every minute or so to extract her phone from her pocket with shaky fingers to hastily eye the map on the screen.

But then she turned a street corner into an alleyway, and the most glorious kaleidoscope of scents, smells and flavours wafted towards her like outstretched arms gently embracing her, telling her all was going to be okay, that she was safe. 

Lori blinked and saw that the alleyway was lined wall to wall on both sides with stalls of rainbow colours, each one loaded with treats and pastries and snacks, laid out ready to eat, or cooking over grills or frying in pans in the back. 

Throngs of smiling people collected little paper bags and skewers of delicious looking food, and Lori found herself practically salivating as she marched on through, though more slowly now, actually taking the time to gaze at her surroundings. 

She found herself wishing she had brought more money out with her, and concluded that perhaps the city wasn’t all that bad after all.

Feeling calmer, she turned another corner on to a different street, and finally found herself opposite the coffee shop where her companions for the next two weeks were hopefully still waiting for her.

Having safely (and slowly) crossed the road, she pushed open the door of what looked to be a small, somewhat expensive place, but the warm smell of roasted coffee and fresh cakes soon abated any reservations she might have had. Besides which, it was nice and cool inside after she had been walking in the hot sun for so long.

Looking around the brightly lit café, she saw many groups of people, chatting, eating lunch, drinking away, some reading newspapers, prodding phone screens or typing on laptops. She knew she had to look for three people drinking iced strawberry mochas, although it struck her suddenly she didn’t actually really know what an iced strawberry mocha was. Her home-town wasn’t exactly known for its modern café culture. Still, she spotted three young looking people slurping something pink-ish brown and frothy looking from large glasses and hoped it was them.

“Hi,” she said shyly as she approached the table, and then her brain gave up on her. She was getting really good at talking to one person at a time without feeling too much anxiety, but three? That was altogether too much. Fortunately, one of the nonplussed looking youngsters at the table got the picture and took over for her.

“Hello!” a tall girl stood with a smile and reached out for her hand, “You’re our new roomie?”

Lori dazedly reached out in turn and the two shook, “Yeah… how did you know?”

“Don’t expect anyone else has much reason to come over and say hello!” the girl laughed, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ellen.”

Ellen was slim, with a pointed, elegant face partially covered by large, rounded spectacles. There was a large tuft of shiny red hair combed neatly backwards over her head and she wore a red plaid shirt with jeans and a simple necklace. She was the sort of person Lori imagined would be considered “attractive”. Lori thought she looked a little older than she herself was, and she had an air of maturity-the kind of person you would trust to show you around a strange new place where no-one knew your name yet. Which, Lori realised, was in fact the exact situation she was in right now.

“I’m Lori,” Lori replied, a little louder now, “Are we all here for the film course?”

“That’s right,” said one of the others at the table, though he remained seated, leaning back flippantly in his chair, “We’re all in training to be the next generation of great directors, huh?”

“I guess,” Lori shrugged.

“My name is George, by the way. George Spencer. I expect you’ll be seeing that name on the big screen at some point, probably before any of yours, in fact.”

“Oh yes?” Ellen winked at Lori and then turned around to face him, “And why is that, George?”

“Well,” he rocked back in his chair, resting on the two back legs, “I doubt anyone here has more experience with the art of film than me. No offense, of course! It’s just a simple statement.”

Lori had only just met him and she already found him quite annoying. His ostentatious attitude, coupled with his too-casual display of arrogance made him come across as someone who was trying far too hard to impress people to actually pay much attention to them. He was the only one there who was not dressed casually, instead wearing a blazer and button-up shirt despite the blazing heat outside, and had his dark hair slicked down over his forehead. His bony face had a prideful, tight-lipped expression, and he had dark, narrow eyes.

“What kind of movies do you like then, George?” Lori asked in a blunt tone.

“Oh, you know, the classics… drama, romance, mystery…”

“What about horror?” Lori asked.

“Ah, well, I don’t really go in for that kind of thing. A little low-brow, don’t you think?”

“No,” Lori scowled, feeling rather hurt, “Horror is a milestone of cinema. And it happens to be my favourite genre. I bet you’re just too scared.”

George gaped at her, the front legs of his chair clunking forwards again as he lost his balance. Lori wondered with a pang of anxiety if she had gone too far. But Ellen giggled, as did the final person at the table, another girl, who had coolly watched without saying anything until then.

“So you wanna make horror movies, I’m guessing?” she spoke up, her voice a deep growl. 

Since the other two had already introduced themselves, Lori guessed she must be the “Max” from the note.

Max was a big girl, and looked like she had a sense of fun. Her T-shirt had some rude slogan on it, that could have been from a TV show for all Lori knew, although it was partly covered by the unzipped vest she wore. There were tattoos running up both her bare arms, and a ring through her nose. Lori was certain that Max could pick her up with just one of her powerful looking arms, and her legs were like tree trunks planted into the ground beneath the table. She looked like the older sister everybody wished they had, warm and safe, but able to smack down anybody that messed with you.

“That’s right,” Lori nodded.

“That’s pretty awesome,” Max rested one her chin on one hand, gazing at Lori, who felt a warm rush of affection for her, “I don’t mind one myself, now and then. It’s Max, by the way. Or Maxie, if you like.”

“Well,” Ellen took Lori’s hand in her own, and her grip was soft and gentle, “shall I get you something to drink, now we’re all acquainted, for better or worse?” 

Her voice dropped to a whisper close to the end, and she leaned her head close to Lori’s ear. George squinted at them suspiciously from behind Ellen’s back.

“If you don’t mind,” Lori chuckled quietly. 

She still felt nervous, but she had to admit, her room-mates were… mostly… very nice. Perhaps the two weeks would be fun after all.

Ellen led Lori to the counter, and pointed at the wooden menu boards close to the ceiling. 

“The strawberry mochas are very good… I would recommend. Unless you want something stronger.”

“Something cold and refreshing would be good,” Lori agreed.

“Great! I’m paying for this round,” Ellen took a small wallet from her jeans pocket.

“Thanks,” Lori flashed a grateful smile, “So how did you find this place?”

“Oh, I’ve been coming here for years! I actually live in the city. I was debating on whether to even get a room at the college since it’s only for two weeks or just bike in, but I thought it would be more fun to stay away from home.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Lori said quickly, the words feeling awkward as they left her mouth, but Ellen didn’t seem to mind, “You and Max and uh… George, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about him, Lori. He’s alright, from what I’ve seen of him so far. Just a little keen to prove himself.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Relax,” Lori’s new friend smiled, “it’s going to be a fun summer!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, heck, it's been what, uhh.. over two years since I last posted on here? My passion for stories and storytelling has not left though, so please look forward to more of this and other NitW in the hopefully not-quite-as-distant-this-time future!
> 
> This story is fun to write since I get to play with new characters and have them interact with an older Lori, but also quite challenging since she's the only familiar character and thus has to carry at least the early story.  
> As an extension of that, this whole story takes place miles away from the beloved trappings of Possum Springs, aside from the occasional reference to it. I hope my new little corner of the NitW universe seems natural. But really, I'm just glad to get back into writing. Please enjoy!


	2. Lori does not go to a party

“Hey, Lori,” Max approached Lori from the side a second after the latter had left her dormitory room, as if she had been lying in wait-Lori hadn’t even finished fiddling with the keys in the lock. 

The four classmates had gone as a group to collect their room keys from the reception, and then climbed up the single flight of stairs to see how comfortable they were going to be for the next two weeks. Lori hadn’t seen anybody else’s room, but she had no reason to doubt that they were exactly like hers: clean, but pokey, with just enough room for a bed, a wardrobe and a wooden desk with bare shelves above it, and everything painted white or some other very neutral colour. 

For two weeks, it would do. 

She had retrieved her canvas bag from the store room and now slung it on the floor after taking a quick glance around, not planning to unpack much right away, if at all. It wasn’t like she had brought very much anyway-just the essential changes of clothing, a few toiletries and various art supplies.

One thing she did like about the room, however, was the view. Her window was opposite the door and looked out over the roof of an adjoining extension. Beyond that were rows of evergreens and squat college buildings behind which the brilliant golden sun lazily ebbed its way down as the day came to a reluctant close. If she opened the window far enough, she realised with satisfaction, she could just about squeeze out on to the roof and sit on the top where the rows of red tiles came to a point. 

But for the time being she decided to leave the view behind and explore the campus. Until she was stopped at the door by Max.

“Lori,” Max seemed a little out of breath, “You coming to the party?”

“Party?” Lori repeated slowly. She stopped trying to turn the keys and turned to face Max.

“All the people here for the various summer classes are going. We’re just going to get acquainted, have some fun, you know? Can’t be working ourselves too hard now, can we?” Max guffawed.

Party.

Well, Lori thought to herself, this is a dilemma.

You can’t go to a party, said a little voice in her head. You’ll embarrass yourself!

You have to go, said a different voice. You don’t want to look moody in front of your new friends. And besides, partying is just what people do at college, right?

But you haven’t been to a party since you were little! The first voice chimed back in. And you’re so much older and more awkward now. Do you even know how to interact with other people in a big group?

Well, no, conceded the second voice.

“Thanks, brain,” Lori sighed.

“What?” Max eyed her suspiciously.

“Nothing. I can’t go.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I just can’t. I don’t… do well in groups.”

“Oh,” Max looked rather let down, “Well, look, you can hang out with me until you get more comfortable-”

“I can’t go. Sorry.”

She spun round, shoved the door back open and disappeared inside before Max could mount a proper protest, slamming it shut behind her.

It was a strange feeling, one she knew well but had never properly gotten used to. That tightness in her chest that meant she had “failed” socially. She had disappointed someone. She had made things awkward. And yet, that palpable relief at not having to engage in further social interaction. She was free, to be herself, by herself, as she always had been. 

I don’t need anyone else. Not really. Two weeks and I’ll never see these people again anyway, right?

This was what she told herself as she crossed over to the window and, after a second of contemplation, opened it up and carefully clambered out. 

While the sun was getting steadily lower in the sky, the red tiles were still slightly warm underneath her boots after how hot the day had been. She eased herself down until she was sitting on the pointed top of the roof, with her legs dangling off to one side, resting on the sloped tiles, and then inched herself across to the end of the building. There she placed her hands in her lap and sat in quiet contemplation of the trees and the buildings and the sky, and she thought about home and Church University and people she knew and people she didn’t know anymore, and she wondered how to make sense of all of it. 

Her life back home in Possum Springs and her new, if short lived life here seemed to be in two different universes. How could a place and a time like this exist in the same reality as the dull, run-down mining town she had spent years growing up in?

She sat there for quite some time. It could have been ten minutes. It could have been twenty. She faintly acknowledged the sun disappear for good behind the tall evergreens and watched the sky redden.

She heard a clicking noise behind her, and carefully craned her neck round, fearing that her window had somehow shut itself.

Instead, she saw Ellen, standing in her window.

“Sorry!” the other girl winced as she shouted over, “Max said you didn’t want to come to the party, and then I saw you sitting on the roof by yourself out the window, so I came to check on you!”

“How did you get into my room?” Lori called, more accusingly than she really wanted to.

“You left your keys in the door!”

“Oh.”

“On the outside!”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Ellen seemed to hesitate for second. Lori noticed she was wearing a pretty, rather sparkly green dress that bared her shoulders now, and a silver necklace of some kind. 

Lori turned her back again, slipping her hands into her hoodie pockets and fidgeting a little. 

“Did you want something?”

“Well, are you okay?” Ellen’s voice rang over her shoulder.

“I dunno. I guess. I’m just… not great at parties. It’s fine, though. I’m fine being by myself,” Lori’s voice petered out as she got closer to the end of her spiel. 

She felt vulnerable having to say all of that loud enough for Ellen to hear back in the window. She’d made similar excuses a hundred times or more over the years, but usually in a low mumble, head hung low, before dashing off in the opposite direction whenever possible. Having to practically shout made the words sound hollow and pathetic to her own ears.

Ellen, however, didn’t seem put-off at all. 

“Nah, it’s okay, I get it! Just don’t want you to feel left out!”

“Really, it’s fine.” 

Ellen didn’t reply, and Lori suspected she might have finally gotten bored and walked off, but she felt it would be awkward to turn around and check, especially since she’d just gotten comfortable again.

“You want to get out of here?”

Still there.

“I can’t go to the party,” Lori wasn’t sure if she was glad or annoyed that Ellen hadn’t left yet.

“I know. I meant like… let’s just go for a walk or something. Around the campus. Or into town.”

Lori suddenly remembered that her original plan for the evening had indeed been to explore the campus, albeit by herself. But what harm could it do, really, to have a friend along? It might even be kind of nice, she reasoned. She would have plenty of time to get lost in her thoughts later.

“Alright,” she nodded slowly, “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Great!” Ellen grinned and offered Lori her hand from the window. After a brief moment of hesitation, Lori shuffled across and took it, allowing Ellen to pull her clumsily back through the window, with Lori nearly falling on top of the other girl. 

She smells of strawberries, Lori noticed. She saw the subtle make-up around Ellen’s eyes and on her cheeks, and felt a pang of guilt since she had clearly gotten dressed up for the party, had probably been looking forward to it, and yet had still chosen to spend the evening with her instead, a girl she hardly knew. She wondered why, and yet couldn’t help but feel that Ellen looked very beautiful, and she remembered the pleasant summer afternoons she had spent back in Possum Springs eating strawberries in the yard, even though the memories were as hazy as the blood red sky behind her.

“You okay?” Ellen brought her back to the present.

“Sure,” Lori said hastily, and then added, “Thanks. And thanks for checking up on me too, even if you did technically trespass through my room.”

“Well, you can’t have me done for breaking and entering, not when you left your keys in the lock for anyone to walk off with,” she offered a graceful arm towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go already,” Lori decided to take the lead.

“Remember your keys this time!”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So, now that us two girls have got some time together, why don’t you really tell me about yourself, Lori?”

Lori fumbled with the tassles on her hoodie, bunching her little hands into fists and chewing her lip as she contemplated. 

The two of them had been walking West for about five minutes, mostly in a slightly wobbly silence, and they had arrived at a large plaza in the centre of campus. 

Lori had to admit it was a very pretty place, with a softly trickling fountain in the middle of a green square of grass, surrounded by zig-zagging paving stones, all flanked by big old brown brick buildings, which Lori could only assume were filled either with stuffy old professors poring over their books and papers, or half-drunk students. Perhaps both.

“I don’t think there’s much to tell,” she started tentatively as they strolled from one corner of the plaza, “I’m a fundamentally uninteresting person to be honest. I’m from eff-all nowhere, with no fun stories to reminisce over, and my special talent is being boring. Without sounding rude, I have no idea why you wanted to hang out instead of going to a party with actual fun people.”

“But that is interesting.”

“Thanks for the attempt at boosting my confidence, but I really doubt it is.”

“No, no, see, I grew up in the city, so I have no idea what living in a small town is like.”

“Believe me, you’re not missing much.”

“Come on,” Ellen whined playfully, “Stop being such a grump and tell me about it already.”

Lori privately rolled her eyes, but she didn’t want to go back to the awkward silence, so she conceded.

“Alright. It’s a little place called Possum Springs. It’s in the middle of the forest a long way away from here, in Deep Hollow County. We have a railway track, a bunch of old buildings, some weird mine where they found a bunch of dead cultists a couple of years back-”

“What?” Ellen hissed loudly enough to startle a couple of passing drunks.

“Yeah, there had been a bunch of disappearances around town, and after a couple of months of scouring the woods they finally decided to blow open the old mine and they found loads of the missing people-all dead- in these creepy black robes, trapped inside.”

“Lori, that’s like… the opposite of uninteresting. How can you talk so casually about having a cult in your town?”

“So you don’t have one?”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be normal.”

“It’s normal in the country. When you only have one supermarket instead of ten you have to let your inner animal out somehow.” Lori wasn’t sure if her attempt at humour had gone over all that well.

Ellen stared at her in disbelief, before her face cracked open into a wide smile, “Oh, you’re just making fun of me!”

“Well, the cult stuff really did happen.”

“No way!”

“Yeah. I dunno what they actually did down there. No one ever found out. Probably harmless though. A lot of them were okay folks around town. One of my old friends was really bummed out when they all got found dead like that.”

“That is insane. And to think I’ve wasted my whole life in the city.”

“Must be nice having more than one doctor, though.”

“I usually only see them one at a time.”

It was Lori’s turn to give Ellen a very deadpan look. They had made their way around two edges of the plaza now, and their next turn put what was left of the sun behind them.

“So,” Ellen chuckled, “any other horror stories from Deep Hollow for me tonight?”

“We have a ghost as well. I think. I’ve never seen him. Supposed to be some kid who died young years and years ago, but I’ve been around the woods at night loads of times and never seen him.”

“Ghosts… a cult… I think I get why you love horror movies so much. You practically survived one.”

“Growing up in Possum Springs was like being in a horror movie, in some ways. Never knew if I was going to get out alive. If there was going to be anything left, when I did. But…”

“But?”

“It wasn’t all bad. Yeah, I guess I got to know some nice people too.”

“We are all but a product of our environment,” Ellen said, sounding very wise, “So how are you finding the city? Must be pretty overwhelming for you, right?”

Lori swallowed, then nodded, “A bit, yeah. It’s just so… big. Everything is. In a way that the forest isn’t. And there are so many people here. I’ve seen more people in the last day than I have in my entire life, I think.”

Ellen patted her shoulder sympathetically, “I understand. You know, I would love to go and see where you come from one day.”

Lori snuffled, “I reckon you’d get pretty cheap tickets.”

They finally reached the corner they had started from and Lori realised she’d been chatting for an unusually long time. 

“You know,” she said slowly, embarrassedly, “you’re very easy to talk to.”

“Aw, thanks, Lori.”

“And, um… I had fun, I guess. It was nice… to talk to someone. About home and stuff.”

“I thought you might appreciate it.”

“Will you… tell me more about growing up in the city?” Lori blurted out.

Ellen looked pleased, “Sure Lori. Whenever you want.”

“Thanks,” Lori gave a very warm, genuine smile. She noted with a strange feeling that smiling wasn’t something she did all that often, and wondered why she had chosen to bedazzle this girl with such a rare gift. Then again, she still wasn’t sure why Ellen had wanted to bring her out in the first place. But, for once, she decided not to questions things too much.

Ellen gestured with her long, slender arm again, “Shall we head back?”

“After you.”

The sun was nearly gone. The day was nearly over. But Lori strangely felt like her evening was only just beginning. Or, at least, she hoped it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll right now! More to come within the next week. Will probably post ~2 chapters a week.


	3. Lori goes to class

There was a buzz in the air of the grand semi-circular lecture hall as people trickled in and took their seats. Today was the day they were finally going to get started on what they had all been waiting for: the film classes where they would (hopefully) learn to become award winning directors. Or, at the very least, award nominated directors. 

Lori, hoping to appear eager, rose, breakfasted and arrived early and picked a seat right at the very front, neatly laying out her notebook. Then, realising how very much she did not want to be right in the cross-hairs, bundled up her notebook again and ran up the stairs to the very back, before realising this seemed a bit too conspicuous also. 

Finally, she decided to simply wait outside to see if Ellen, Max or George showed up. There was no sign yet of the guest speaker- acclaimed director Jimmy Burr- although Lori wasn’t quite sure what he looked like anyway, having never seen any of his work personally. She imagined him to be old, and probably a little austere looking.

Lori found a spot to sit just outside the lecture hall door and gazed out the window at the fuzzy blue Monday morning sky, only half paying attention to the other students filing in as she bunched her hands into her ever-useful hoodie pockets. 

She had spent the Sunday before hanging out with her room-mates, mostly because she felt she would become rather overwhelmed and lost if she tried to explore by herself, but strange as it felt to admit, she thought they had actually become rather good friends in the short time they had spent together, eating, swapping stories and seeing the sights. 

Lori just supposed this was how people bonded when they were forced away from everything and everyone they had ever known and made to live together. Max was nice, if occasionally a bit clingy, and while George had certainly seemed dismissive and snide when they first met, Lori sensed a genuinely sincere appreciation for movies underneath the bluster. She had made a mental note to sit him down to watch Harfest before the summer was out, suspecting that he would quite enjoy a good scare if he actually let himself go.

More than either of them though, Lori felt a special bond with Ellen. Lori was often quiet in conversation -she always had been- but Ellen seemed honestly interested in her input, often asking her to chip in, and hushing the others if they mistakenly started talking over her. Lori, for her part, felt unusually at ease with her, and had surprised even herself by making a point to learn as much about her as she could-where she grew up, what subjects she struggled with at school, what her favourites movies were-and the two just clicked in a way that Lori didn’t know was possible.

“Excuse me,” came a low, slightly nasally, but nonetheless genial voice from her right. 

She looked around with a start and realised that a well-groomed man in a wheelchair had entered the building while she had been away in her thoughts. He was very formally dressed, clad in a black suit, matching tie and shoes, and a white shirt. But the most noticeable thing about him was the large, almost cartoonish plume of grey hair spiralling out of every side of his wrinkled head. He seemed to be in his late forties or early fifties, yet Lori sensed a boyish, but relaxed energy emanating from him as he smiled at her in a curious way that made him look faintly amused.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he repeated, “Gee… I sure hope I didn’t startle you.”

Lori stayed silent, mainly because she wasn’t quite sure what to say to this odd looking stranger who had appeared out of nowhere.

“I was just wondering,” he continued, taking long pauses between his sentences as if carefully considering what to say, “would this here door… happen to be for the summer students… the lecture room for the film students?”

Lori opened her mouth, then closed it again, before finally deciding to keep it simple, “Uhh… yeah.”

“Wow,” the man nodded as if she had just imparted unto him life-changing wisdom, “thanks for your help. Sure do appreciate you kind folks ‘round here.”

And with that he wheeled himself off towards the lecture hall door at a surprising clip, allowing one of the other students to hold it open for him. 

“Gee… sure are nice ‘round here… yeah.” 

He flashed his brilliant white teeth at the student as he passed, and Lori noticed with a certain sense of relief the other student looked just as taken aback as she felt.

“Good morning, Lori,” a second later came George’s voice as he strolled over, “Lecture started yet?”

“Um… nah. Not yet. Who was that guy?” she wondered aloud.

“What guy?” Max popped up behind George’s shoulder.

“Strange man in a wheelchair… nice, but… odd.”

“Oh shit!” George gasped, “That’s him!”

“What’s him?” Ellen popped up behind Max’s shoulder and greeted Lori with a her own flash of white teeth. Lori waved back enthusiastically.

“The guy in the wheelchair! I’ll bet anything it was… Jimmy Burr!”

“Who?” said Max.

“Jimmy… God did you even read the pamphlet they sent out? Jimmy Burr! One of the greatest directors of our age, maybe all time!” George exclaimed dramatically, with much waving of his long arms.

“So what’s he done?” Max asked dryly.

“What’s he… how do you not…” George spluttered indignantly, “You’ve never seen a Jimmy Burr film?”

“I dunno. I just watch the films I want to watch. I don’t pick out films based on the director.”

“I don’t believe this. You came all this way to learn about films, and you don’t even…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Ellen sighed impatiently, “What’s most important is that he knows what he’s talking about, right?”

“I’m not all that sure he does,” Lori muttered.

George looked at them all pleadingly, one by one, before folding his arms with a frown, looking at the floor.

“Oh well,” Max said brightly, “Now that we’ve all been educated as to the identity of our oh-so-important guest-”

“Oh, stop it,” George huffed.

“-I reckon we should mosey on in before we’re late for the honourable Mr. Burr’s address.”

Lori pulled herself to her feet, shook her head to clear it and then filed in behind the other three. Sure enough, the man in the wheelchair had parked himself next to the lectern at the front and was gazing, seemingly fascinated, at the sea of faces rising before him. To Lori’s relief, Max, who took the lead, decided to sit almost precisely in the middle row, close to the one wall, followed by George and Ellen, with Lori squeezing in at the end.

Not long after that, the hall was full and the appointed time was nigh. The man in the wheelchair coughed, not especially loudly, but commandingly enough for everyone to cease their conversation and swivel their heads to stare at him in unison.

“Hi,” his voice rang out, and there were those teeth again, “Wow… it sure is, uhh… a real pleasure to be here today. My name is Jimmy Burr…”

Lori heard a small “Ow!” from her left as George smugly nudged Max in the gut.

“You, uhh… might know of me from cult classics like In Heaven, When the Robins Come and my personal favourite… Hot Spice.”

“Hot Spice?” someone muttered from the back, “Are you kidding me? That one was garbage.”

A chorus of shushing hissed up like a cloud of steam. Jimmy Burr carried on, completely unperturbed, still with the grin, though his features had taken on a more thoughtful look now. Lori couldn’t tell if he was even listening.

“Now I’m here to teach all of you… wonderful youngsters… how to become the next… the next, uhh… one of me, I guess,” he said, carefully enunciating every word, as it figuring out whether he liked the sound of it or not, “Although hopefully slightly more successful at the box office,” he chuckled softly at his own joke. Several of the front row students joined in.

“Wait, I thought you said he was some kind of big-shot?” Max whispered to George.

“He is! His films were never commercially successful, because they were never made to appeal to the lowest common denominator like all of the trash you see now-”

“Sorry I asked,” Max fake yawned.

“No wonder we’ve never heard of him,” mused Ellen. 

“I get it though,” Lori chimed in, shuffling in her seat to face the others, “You should make the stuff you want to see, not what everyone else wants to see.”

“Thank you, Lori, finally some sense is spoken!” George sighed, “Imagine how many good stories would go to waste if you only made what you thought people would want to pay for.”

“But isn’t it good to make films that can inspire lots of other people? Especially those who otherwise might not have much of a voice? Or to bring things that are important to you to the public eye?” Ellen said earnestly, leaning over to George.

“Well, sure, but it still has to be personal to you. You can’t tell a story about something you have no real experience of or interest in, right?” 

“Write what you know,” Max nodded, arms folded, eyes closed.

“Gee,” Jimmy’s voice startled Lori away from the conversation and she flipped her face rather guiltily back to the front, “it sure is nice to see you folks up there having such an interesting conversation… yes, indeed.”

Lori had a brief flashback to the years she had spent enduring passive aggressive remarks from her school teachers, and so was pleasantly surprised when Jimmy carried on talking and she realised he actually meant what he said.

“You see, folks,” he continued, “One of the most important things in the movie business is… uhh… collaboration. The movie industry is an organism. It is full of lots of little cogs all spinning around in tandem. You have to get along with your, uhh… your producers, and your editors, and your actors… uhh… your writers… or you can’t make a movie. It’s not like… painting a picture, where you can do it all by yourself. Remember that, if nothing else.”

He looked around for a second, perhaps to let his words sink in, “So who can tell me what’s the most important thing when you first decide to make a movie?”

“Collaboration!” someone yelled out immediately, and Jimmy chuckled again.

“Uhh… nice try, but not quite. Before you get to the collaboration stage.”

“A plan?” someone else called.

“Kind of. Almost. Before you even start making a plan.”

“An idea,” Lori squeaked out before she could stop herself.

Jimmy’s eyes locked on to hers and her heart leapt in to her mouth. 

Oh God, she thought, that was dumb. Why did I shout out? I must look like an idiot right now.

“Bingo,” Jimmy nodded, “One good idea. An idea you cannot shake. An idea that demands to be put down somewhere for safekeeping until you can realise it with sweat and toil. That’s the beginning of a movie.”

Oh, Lori thoughts raced, her heart still doing laps in her throat. That went surprisingly well. 

“Imagination… and collaboration… and the will to make your idea a reality you can share with the world, those are the things you need the most to, uhh… to make a movie.”

He looked down at the ground between his knees for a minute and frowned, seemingly considering his next words very carefully. 

“But to make a good film… what you need even more is willpower. The will to never compromise on your vision. Never water down your idea for those you fear will misunderstand it… because those who need to understand it, will, and those who don’t probably wouldn’t have paid it much mind anyway. Remember: you alone are the only person in the whole world… who can bring your own ideas to life, fully and truly.”

The hall exploded into applause and cheers, and Jimmy appeared rather bashful, even bemused at the response. 

“Okay, okay…” he raised his hand to quiet down the audience, “now before we start on something practical… do any of you… uhh… folks have any questions?”

George’s hand shot into the air, “What is the real meaning behind the last scene in Night Road?” he practically shouted.

Jimmy contemplated him a moment in silence, and then the grin returned once more, “Gee, kid… it was, uhh… twenty years ago. Fuck if I remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a blast writing this so far! Chapter 4 will most likely be up by the end of Sunday. In the meantime, I hoped you enjoyed the latest installment. Many thanks to those of you who have left kudos or comments or subscribed so far!


	4. Lori goes to work

“This is hard.” Lori sighed. 

She pushed her notebook off her lap, tossed her pen aside and flopped back on her pillow, hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling as if willing it to give her some inspiration.

Ellen glanced up from where she was stretched out on the dorm room floor with her laptop, fingers machine gunning the keyboard, evening sunlight streaming through the window across her face. 

“Having trouble?”

Lori groaned, rubbing her eyes with balled up hands, contemplating the blotchy patterns that appeared on the insides of her eyelids. 

“I have so many good ideas. I mean… I think they’re good. I just don’t know which one to use. And even if I did, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

It was hours after their first lecture, and they had been tasked with creating a script to kick-start the film making process, ready for their class the next morning. Max and George had headed off to the library, leaving the other two alone.

Ellen paused and thoughtfully stroked her chin. 

“Starting a story is always the hardest part, I find.”

“Tell me about it,” Lori still had her hands over her eyes.

“But you don’t have to start at the beginning, right?”

Lori slid her hands off her face, peeking over at Ellen. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. You don’t have to start at the beginning.”

“If I don’t start at the beginning, how am I supposed to keep track of what’s already happened in the story?”

“You’ll know. It’s your story. It’s your project. You have your outline. I’m talking more like… dialogue, and stuff. The details. Sometimes it’s better to skip the boring bits early on in a piece of writing, start with the bit you find the most exciting, then go back to the scene-setting stuff at the end, when you know what the scene is that you’re trying to set. Does that make sense?”

There was a long pause. 

“Uh, I think?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But my story doesn’t have boring bits.”

Ellen laughed, her voice like golden honey to Lori’s ears, “Oh Lori, I’m sure every writer feels the same way.”

“Horror movies can’t be boring. That’s literally the whole point of horror movies. They’re exciting, they’re intense-”

“You’re definitely sticking with horror?” Ellen cocked her head to one side, gazing at Lori with an eyebrow raised.

“Well,” Lori gestured at the discarded notebook flopping halfway off the bed, “I was.”

Ellen chewed her lip, following Lori’s waving hand. She reached over her laptop and gently took the notebook, almost certainly saving it from an ignominious slide down the bed covers on to the carpet.

“Whoa, hey!” Lori sat up in a panic, “What are you doing?”

Ellen froze, eyebrows raised, book suspended in mid-air limbo between the two girls. 

“I want to read what you’ve done so far.”

“No, you can’t! I mean… please don’t!”

“Why not?”

“It’s not finished! I don’t even know which idea I’m going to pick!”

“Well, let me see which one I like best and maybe you can pick that one.” 

The older girl plonked Lori’s book on top of her computer keyboard and began to flick through the pages to find the most recent writing.

“Ellen…” Lori whined plaintively.

“Relax! I’m not going to shred your scripts. Anyway, the whole class is going to see what you’ve made in two weeks, and you won’t even let one person see it now?”

“It’s different now…”

“Because it’s not finished?” Ellen rolled her eyes.

Lori squirmed, “No… I don’t… I mean… I want to share, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you,” Lori hung her head, wringing her hands.

Another long pause. Ellen stared at Lori. Her eyebrows were raised again. Lori tried her best to look extremely interested in her bed cover, playing with a corner of the fabric much too intensely.

Finally, Ellen stood, book still in hand and sat next to Lori on the bed. Lori nearly tore a hole in the corner.

The silence lingered still, like an unwanted guest at a family reunion.

Ellen placed a warm, slender hand on Lori’s shoulder. Lori fervently hoped nobody was going to want that bed cover back.

“Lori…” Ellen finally banished the silence, “What’s wrong?”

Lori huffed, screwed her eyes up shut, but managed to muster up the courage to speak. 

“I think you’re really cool.”

There was that flowing laugh again, “Well, thanks, that’s sweet, but…”

“And you’re so confident,” Lori rambled on, “and you make me feel…”

“Yes?” Ellen breathed. 

Shit, went the alarms in Lori’s head, she’s so damn close right now.

“...Good,” Lori finished quietly, “About myself,” she felt the hand on her shoulder relax a little and realised she hadn’t noticed how tense either of them were, “And I know we just met, but… you make me feel good in a way that not many people ever have.”

“It’s okay, Lori,” Ellen smiled, “I like you too.”

Lori finally allowed herself to make eye contact, “Really?”

“Sure! You’re sweet and you have good ideas and you’re fun to hang out with.”

“I don’t know if you’re talking about the right person, Ellen, but… thanks. I guess you can read my notebook, if you want.”

“Thanks, Lori,” Ellen began to read, but didn’t move from her position on the bed. 

“Well?” Lori fidgeted, pouting a little.

“I’ve only just started reading, give me a minute.”

Lori took a deep breath and let silence settle once more as she stared out the window at the sunset. For a few minutes the two girls simply sat, side by side, alone in their own thoughts. Ellen’s hand remained on Lori’s shoulder.

“Lori-”

“Yes?” she whipped around, much more forcefully than she intended. The hand dropped off Lori’s shoulder.

“You have some really good ideas-”

“But?”

“Hang on a sec-You have some really good ideas for movies-”

“But?”

“But… how do I put this… your writing is kind of jumbled up. The short film scripts you’ve written so far are kind of messy and hard to parse.”

“Oh…” Lori deflated.

“Hang on, hang on, I’m not finished… I think your problem is you’re more of a visual person, I mean,” she held up the open notebook and pointed at the page, “look at all of these drawings you’ve made around the script here. Your passion is a visual medium and you want to create in a visual way. You need to grab a camera and find a room and just… have a play. See what works. Let the ideas flow. Then write them down.”

“You think so?” Lori perked up a little.

“Yes!” Ellen beamed, “It doesn’t have to be perfect anyway.”

“Well,” Lori nodded pensively, “I guess that does make sense. Maybe I’ve been too busy sitting around thinking about what I need to do instead of actually doing it.”

“Everybody learns and creates in different ways,” Ellen bowed her head sagely.

“You’re really good at this,” Lori gave a wan smile.

Ellen took her glasses off and wiped them with a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket, putting the notebook down on her lap. Lori noticed the older girl looked a little embarrassed herself now.

“Thanks… guess it comes with growing up in a big household.” 

“Oh?”

“I was always having to help my little brothers and sisters when they were upset. Mom and Dad… weren’t always such a big help,” a small frown crossed her face as she slid her glasses back on.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lori mumbled.

“Nah… it’s okay. I didn’t have such a bad time at the end of the day. Whenever I wanted an escape, I would go sit somewhere quiet and… just… write. And when I didn’t know what to write, I would watch movies. The two always went hand in hand for me.”

“Somewhere quiet,” Lori said, an idea dawning, “like the roof?”

“Yeah,” Ellen looked at her curiously. Her head was cocked on one side again, “How did you know?”

“Used to do the same thing, back home,” she drew her knees into her chest, suddenly shy again, “You ever lie down between the railway tracks at night?”

Ellen seemed amused at this question, “Can’t say as I have. You used to do that?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Helped me think. Didn’t like being at home very much back then. Liked listening to the trains and sometimes I’d imagine I was someone else or somewhere else.”

Ellen’s face grew solemn, “Were you lonely?”

Lori sat and thought for a second, before deciding to be honest. Ellen seemed eager to share her own story, and something about her earnestness put Lori at ease.

“Yes. I only had one sister. And she was always out causing trouble. My Dad was usually away on business. My Mom… is gone. And I didn’t have many friends. Still don’t. I used to watch movies by myself and then find somewhere I could be alone and in the open air where I could just… think. And draw. Or whatever.”

“Oh…” Ellen seemed taken aback, “Lori, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… fine. I made it, somehow. I’m here now. I can do… I don’t know. Something better, with my life. Better than being stuck in a tiny town in the middle of who-cares nowhere forever. One day I’ll leave for good.”

“I’m sure you will,” the other girl said softly, “And I’m glad you’re here.”

Lori gazed at Ellen for a long time and then broke out into a wide smile. 

“Me too. I’m glad I’m here. With you.”

“I guess we’re both lost, movie loving souls, right?” Ellen smiled back.

“Sure. What’s your movie about, by the way?”

“Oh… it’s about a girl with big dreams growing up in a busy household with a handful of younger siblings, and her struggle to find some meaning in life.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Really?” Ellen laughed again and this time it sounded all the sweeter still, “I wonder why.”

“Well, I hope you make that movie. I hope it turns out really good.”

“Me too. But you’ll see for yourself in two weeks. Will you let me help you with your movie?”

“You really want to?”

“Of course. You can come up with the ideas and sketch out the scenes and do the camerawork and effects and stuff, and I can write your ideas down for you and,” she threw her arms up in a mock dramatic pose, “be your stunning lead actress!”

It was Lori’s turn to laugh, a real warm laugh, the kind she didn’t get to experience all that often.

“Well, I guess I can’t refuse that. And in return, I’ll help you too.”

“It’s a deal!”

“I’m afraid I’m not much of an actress though.”

“That’s okay. It’s film school, not acting school.”

“Guess we can’t all be good at everything.”

“Well, like I said,” Ellen stood up from the bed, “We all learn and create…”

“… In different ways,” Lori finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, halfway there! If you've read this far, you have my thanks, and I hope you enjoy what is still to come. Will have next chapter up within a few days.


	5. Lori goes wild

“Thanks for meeting me out here, guys,” Lori looked around at her three trusty room-mates, their faces barely visible in the silky pale moonlight. 

“You’re lucky we came,” George yawned, “Is there some particular reason you asked us to walk miles to the edge of town in the middle of the night? I do need my beauty sleep.”

“I hate to agree with George,” Max sighed deeply, “but I was planning on hitting some clubs tonight. You’re such a buzzkill, Lori, y’know?”

“Just listen,” Lori said patiently, “I asked you all to come out here because it’s the only patch of woodland I could find on the map for miles around.”

“And it had to be night because…?” Max pinched the bridge of her nose exasperatedly.

“It’s better for the lighting.”

“Well, that’s my point, you see. There isn’t any light. It’s night.” 

“I know. That’s why we’re going to make a fire.”

“We’re going to… what? Is that even legal this close to a populated area?” George spluttered.

“Probably not,” Lori shrugged.

“Actually, I changed my mind. This is awesome. Let’s do it.” Max whistled appreciatively.

“Ooh!” Ellen squealed, “It’ll be just like camping!”

“Yeah, just think of it like it’s the four of us out here camping-” Lori nodded.

“I still think I’d rather be in bed,” George muttered dejectedly.

“-but instead of camping, we’re filming.”

“Filming?” George blinked “We’ve only just finished writing. You know, our scripts? That are due in first thing tomorrow morning, by the way?”

“Let’s just say I had a little writer’s block.”

“You mean you haven’t done anything yet?”

“I need more time. Time to figure stuff out. I need to experiment.”

“So we’re your guinea pigs?”

“We are her beautiful assistants,” Ellen interrupted, “And if you’re so eager to get to bed, George, be a dear and help her out sooner rather than later, why don’t you?”

George gave an over-dramatic sigh, “What do you need us to do?”

“I already collected together a bunch of dry twigs and made a patch in the ground while I was waiting for you guys. I’m gonna light a fire and then give you guys some directions while I film and take pictures with my phone.” 

Lori took her phone out of one jacket pocket and a small red lighter out of the other.

“You smoke?” Ellen said inquisitively, upon seeing the lighter.

“Not really. I mean, I did once. A bit. When I was much younger. I just like having it around.” 

Lori clicked the lighter on and off a couple of times, gazing at the tiny flame rising above her hand like a ghostly extra finger.

“Ready everyone?” she looked around at them all and they smiled, nodded or grunted in response. 

She approached the large pile of sticks she had assembled in a loose pile and carefully touched the lighter flame to the edge of the wood. Within a few minutes, a warm, crackling bonfire had built up, illuminating the tight clearing they had gathered in and casting giant black shadows all around. It looked like they were being watched by a crowd of jeering monsters hidden in the trees as the shadows wavered in time to the wriggling flame.

Just as Lori had planned.

They all stood in silence for a moment, gazing into the fire as wood snapped and twisted in agony. Lori thought back to all the times she had started campfires in the woods around Possum Springs at night, to keep herself warm when she felt like stopping out late to watch the stars or listen to the trains. She would always come back to the house the next morning covered in dirt and leaves. Her dad had never appreciated that, but that didn’t stop her. She belonged outdoors. 

She realised that if she pricked up her ears enough she could actually catch the distant sounds of the highway winding through the city. Just like being at home. At least, home as it was now, with the interstate snaking around Possum Springs. Sometimes Lori wished the road hadn’t passed by her home at all. She wished it had gone straight through it, and all the houses had been bulldozed and they had all been paid to go off and live somewhere nicer, a place where she didn’t have to snooze on a coach for hours to go to college or to meet people who, grumbling aside, were willing to help her out in the middle of the night after knowing her for just two days.

“Hey guys,” she said suddenly, “I just want you to know I really do appreciate this. It’s nice of you all to come out and help me. And to tell you the truth, I might have been really stuck if it weren’t for you. So thanks.”

“Anytime, Lori,” Max said warmly, “I mean, maybe not literally anytime… but as long as it isn’t later than this, I reckon we’re good.”

Lori shyly smiled back.

“Well, like Jim said, collaboration is important. I expect that you’ll be willing to help us out with our own projects if we do the same for you,” George added. “But yeah, seriously, no later than this, please.”

Lori nodded at him.

“We’re all friends here,” Ellen chimed in last, “Even if we haven’t known each other long… we’re all connected by our love of movies, right? We should help each other.”

“Friends…” Lori murmured, “It feels nice to say that. If we really are friends now… are we going to stay friends when these two weeks are over?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ellen said thoughtfully, “There’s no reason why we can’t all keep in contact, if we want to.”

“I hope we do. If we actually end up going to college… like, for real, it would be cool if we could meet up sometime.” 

Lori sat down carefully on the grass, staring into the fire, as if willing it to show her future in its flickering tendrils. She didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to keep speaking, talking to the fire as much as anyone. It was easier to show emotion when you distanced yourself from other people, avoided them. But ironically, she needed people to let that emotion out of her.

“I’ve never had a lot of friends. I had one really good friend, back home. She was older than me by a few years, but she was cool. We used to hang out a lot.”

She breathed deeply before continuing, placing her phone and lighter on to the grass next to her.

“Then, a year ago, she left. Moved away to another town, bigger. She’s living with another girl now. I think they’re a couple. We always said we’d keep in contact, but… I never know what to say. And the more time goes by, the more surreal it becomes, thinking back to all the things we used to do together, that we’ll never do again. I hope she’s well. I guess she is. But sometimes I wish she’d just… message me. Just out of the blue. About anything. Now it’s just me in Possum Springs, really. Me, my dad, my sister. I don’t have anyone else.”

The other three listened to her story in contemplative silence, the fire dancing in their eyes as they looked at her with… what? Pity? Confusion? Understanding? She didn’t dare turn and look to find out.

Max sat down herself, on the opposite side of the fire, so that Lori couldn’t see anything of her aside from her wide arms sticking out on either side, and the tops of her knees. But she heard her when she started to speak.

“Yeah, I get that. I live in the country, small town, and all of my friends are talking so happily about going to college and getting boyfriends and careers and everything and… and…” she sounded embarrassed.

“To tell you the truth… this two week course is all I can afford. I’m not going to be able to go to college full time for years. And I’m so scared that everyone is going to go away and do wonderful things and I’m just… going to be all by myself, in a dead end job in a dead end town, and even if they do come back, maybe they’ll have forgotten all about me, or they’ll be so different we won’t be friends anymore. Is that… a dumb thing to be scared of?”

“Nah,” Ellen said, kneeling next to the fire in turn and poking it gently with a stick, “It’s not dumb. It’s perfectly normal to be sad when a friendship ends. But you shouldn’t count them out, not just yet. No one ever really forgets their friends. We’re all part of each other, in the end… our memories and stuff. Even if you stop talking forever, you’re still friends, in a way.”

“From my experience,” George said, folding his arms and leaning against a tree, “most of the time when friendships do end, it’s not deliberate. You just grow apart, live apart for a while, then one day you realise you haven’t spoken in months. Or years. It’s sad, but… it’s a part of life. Everybody has people they’ve left behind and have been left behind by.”

“So why do we bother?” Lori asked the fire, “If it’s all going to end one day anyway, why bother? I’m not saying that in a mean way, just… isn’t it weird? We put all that effort into something and then… whoosh… one day it’s just all gone.”

“We need to feel connected to each other,” Max replied from within the fire, “It’s just part of who we are. That’s why I love going to clubs so much, when I actually get the chance. I feel connected to the people there. Like… we’re all there for the same reason, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Lori said quietly, and then quickly added, “Sorry, Max. I promise I won’t keep you away from wherever you want to go tomorrow night.”

“Nah,” Max sounded amused, “It’s cool. Besides, we’re all connected too, right?”

“Sure,” Ellen said, “And at the end of the day, it’s about the journey, not the destination, yeah? If there’s one thing we can learn from film… it’s that you should enjoy the ride, and not worry so much about how it ends. I think that’s true for relationships too.”

“At the end of the day…” Lori repeated softly. 

She finally moved her gaze up into the heavens above and saw all the heroes of old gathered there in the stars, and wondered if she too would be remembered when she was gone.

“Speaking of the end of the day,” she said suddenly, “we really ought to get on with this thing already while we’re here. Otherwise it will be getting too late. And I don’t want George whining any more.”

“Hardy-har,” he grumbled, uncrossing his arms. “It was a good talk though.”

“Yeah,” Lori felt strange inside, like certain things had suddenly started to click together. “It really was.”

She stood up at last, and brushed the dust off the back of her jeans, with Max and Ellen following suit.

“Alright,” Lori picked up the lighter and replaced it in her pocket, before gathering up her phone and turning the camera on, “I want you all to gather around the fire. Close together, so I can fit you all in the shot. Now hold your hands up like this,” she struck a tall, menacing pose, hands held up high like claws.

The trio followed her instructions, looking like they were trying to cast some odious spell.

“Okay, that’s almost perfect,” Lori got down on one knee, resting her elbow on her thigh to steady her hand as she readied the camera. “Max, can you put your hood up though?”

Max did so, throwing her wide face almost entirely into shadow.

“Great, perfect,” Lori took several snaps from different angles, scurrying around the fireplace like a little imp.

“And now I need some video! Can you all like… dance around the fire? Just go crazy,” she felt a little silly asking them, but they seemed happy to oblige, skipping and spinning around the fire as if possessed, and Lori filmed all the while.

The three of them danced, and the fire danced, and the shadows danced behind them in time. Even on her tiny phone screen, the image was beautiful, and Lori stared, captivated by the moment. For a second she forgot they were acting at all.

“Okay,” she said slowly, “I think that’s good for now. You were all wonderful. Thanks again. I just need to take a few extra shots of the area with the fire and then I’ll walk back with you.”

“Sure, Lori,” George chuckled, “Still no idea what we were supposed to be doing, but you’re not a bad director.”

“Thanks,” Lori felt herself blushing slightly and turned away to focus back on her phone screen.

“So what were we doing?” Ellen lingered while George and Max wandered off towards the edge of the woods. “With the fire and the shadows and everything it probably looked like we were trying to summon a demon. Kind of glad no one came along and saw us, to be honest.

“You were summoning a demon. I think. I took inspiration from that story I told you. About the cultists they found back home. I got to imagining what sort of things they got up to in that mine, in those woods. And then I thought, hey, I want to make a horror movie… cults… demons… I hope it’s not too cliché.”

“Nah, Lori, it came from your heart. From your own experience of the world. No matter what, it’s your own story. There’s nothing cliché about that.”

“I suppose,” Lori mumbled, scrolling through the pictures on her phone. The shots she had taken looked fantastic, with the contrast between the dark trees and bright fire. She just hoped it would be enough for her purposes.

“We’d better put this fire out.”

Lori looked back at the fire, again finding herself entranced by it.

“Nah,” she said, “Let it burn… a while longer.”

She tucked her phone away and sat back down by the fire, enjoying its warmth for a second, for the night was beginning to get cold even despite the balmy summer air, before sprawling out backwards on to the grass and dirt. So many stars above her… Was anyone looking back down at her, millions of miles away? Or was she all alone in the universe after all?

Ellen came and silently lay down next to her and they watched the sky together. The stars winked, as if teasing her, or trying to tell her something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a plan for this chapter, but as is often the case, a lot of it just kind of wrote itself when the time came and it ended up being very different to what I originally expected. Funny. Anyway, enjoy, and a new chapter will be up on Saturday/Sunday!
> 
> (I'm quite pleased with how consistently I'm putting these out, esp. since I've never written a chapter based story before.)


	6. Lori skips class

Lori was lost. All around her was nothing but pitch-black darkness. Despite that, she felt that she was somewhere familiar, somewhere she had been recently. She could smell damp earth, as if it had been raining, and the ground squished and sputtered underneath her feet as she tried to feel her way around. 

Suddenly, a bright orb of light flashed on in the distance, moving away from her at speed, flitting in and out of view between what Lori realised were enormous trees, looming over her like great black ghosts. She felt a great need to chase down this light, to let it show her the way, but as she began to run after it her feet became more and more heavy in the mud.

“Wait!” she cried as the light dimmed. “Don’t leave me here alone!”

The orb paused, seemingly waiting for her to catch up, but as Lori got slowly closer, her clothing snagging on jagged bushes, the trees seemed to encroach on her more and more, until she was trapped, and all she could see of the light was a tiny ray between two trunks, taunting her, and as she reached her hand towards it-

The light blinked out.

For the second time in three days, Lori awoke with a start, this time wrapped up in her bedsheets. Still in a panic, she struggled to extricate herself, falling out of bed as she finally did so. Something was wrong. As she scrambled to her feet, the sun shone straight through the open window into her eyes.

The sun?

“Oh shit,” Lori groaned. “I overslept.”

Trying not to break down in renewed panic, she rushed to check the time on her phone. 

Damn. Class was already half-way through. She faintly registered that someone had stealthily texted her, asking where the hell she was, but she was too busy trying to think up a convincing excuse as to why she had slept through her alarm to notice who exactly had sent it. 

Of course, she could always just tell the truth. Which was that, after returning to her dorm room well after midnight, she had spent most of the rest of the night sketching and scribbling in her notebook, sometimes on her bed, occasionally on the adjacent roof, before finally retiring around five in the morning when the summer sun was already on its way back up and the sky had turned a deep shade of blue. 

She had sketched the photos and stills from the video she had taken that night, gradually adding more details-putting robes over the figures in the photo, ghostly figures in the background, a demonic face in the fire and more, until she had an image she was satisfied with. From there, the ideas finally started to flow and the had spent the next couple or so hours frantically writing something resembling a professional short film script.

That she was now going to be handing in late.

Skipping breakfast and washing up, she dashed out the door with her notebook in hand (she had slept in her clothes), just barely remembering to lock the door behind her before she took he stairs two at a time, nearly falling down the last few. 

The classroom was about a ten minute walk away, which Lori turned into a five minute sprint, hissing quick apologies to open-mouthed passersby as she bustled past them. Bursting through the double entrance doors at the front of the building, she rushed across to the lecture theatre but then froze, hand an inch away from the door handle. 

She could hear that the class was still underway inside. In fact, it was probably nearly over by that time. 

Did she really, really want to walk into that crowded lecture hall and have everybody, including her friends and her teacher, stare at her as she shuffled into the first empty seat she could find?

No, she did not.

There probably wasn’t long left, Lori reasoned to herself. She could just wait it out now, and slip in afterwards when everybody else had left to give her script in, right? Better that than to have to slink in shamefully now, wanting to sink into the floor with embarrassment. 

But she needed to hide. Where? Ah, a public bathroom, off down the corridor. She scurried across, pushed the door back, found an empty cubicle inside, bolted the door, sat down on top of the closed toilet lid, leaned back and promptly fell asleep again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She awoke when the bathroom door slammed back and a crowd of students flooded in, squawking and cackling. Lori seized up, glued to the seat. She assumed class had just finished, and had apparently been a real hoot by the sound of it. Either that or someone had just told an extremely funny joke. 

Lori decided to wait until the mob had left, which proved to be an exercise in patience as they insisted on chattering about nothing in particular that Lori could make sense of (someone’s boyfriend had left them via text message?), but they eventually hustled out again. Flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion in case anyone was still listening, Lori clattered back through the doors herself, making a gesture at washing her hands along the way.

She peeked out into the corridor. The coast was clear-it was mid-morning so presumably everybody had gone off to find the nearest coffee shop. But she hoped one person would still be left behind. And so she scurried over to the classroom door and tentatively nudged it open.

Mr. Burr was indeed still inside, albeit packing some papers into an old-fashioned briefcase. He looked up when he heard the door open and grinned at Lori, although she wasn’t sure if this was because he recognised her or if he just made a habit of it.

“Young lady,” he said, “I remember you from the class yesterday, but I don’t believe you were present for today’s session?”

Lori’s heart sank. She was hoping he might have forgotten who she was, but apparently his memory was sharper than his demeanor suggested. 

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to skip class. I just… well, I overslept.”

“Ah,” he nodded slightly. “Party animal, huh? I was the same when I was your age.”

“N-no… actually, I was up all night finishing my script.”

“You got it finished?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s see it then,” he pulled a pair of delicate looking spectacles out of a slim case that had been placed in his immaculate jacket pocket.

Lori flipped her notebook open to the most recent set of pages and hesitantly handed it over. Her heart began to pound in her chest in a very familiar fashion as her mind started to run through all of the worst case scenarios for the outcome of this meeting. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to take her first, albeit hastily written script being torn apart by an actual film director. 

Mr. Burr took the book gently with one hand, slipping his glasses on with the other.

“You aren’t a computer… uhh… person?”

“Nah,” Lori stammered. “I mean… no. No. Never have been. I prefer to write.”

“I getcha. I’m a typewriter man myself,” he looked at her over the rims of his glasses, his face expressionless. 

Lori gave a tiny smile of acknowledgement, unsure if she should say something like “Really? How interesting!” to keep the conversation moving, and she was slightly relieved when his eyes dropped to the notebook, his brow furrowed.

Mr. Burr flicked through the pages carefully, scanning the words on each page, sometimes mouthing them to himself. Lori kept her eyes moving everywhere but him, not wanting to see his expression change as he read her writing and studied her sketches.

“Well, gee, Lori…” he spoke again at last, “this is some good stuff here. You clearly got a good imagination.”

Lori’s eyes snapped to his face. 

“Really?” she breathed hopefully.

“Sure,” he leafed back through the pages. “You took an interesting idea and turned it into something really unique. In fact, if anything I’m worried you might be over-extending yourself.

Lori cocked her head slightly, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you see…” he sat back in his wheelchair and thought for a second, “this is only a… uhh... two week course. That means you got just a tiny fraction of the time to make this film as you would a full movie.”

“Right...”

“So you got to be realistic about the limits of your project. Now this is a fine story,” he motioned towards the open book, “but you’re expecting a little too much of yourself. You want all these… these… great special effects and things.”

“Sure…”

“But a lot of that just isn’t going to be possible in… uhh… two weeks,” he said solemnly.

Lori’s heart sank slightly, “I… I know. I just… I want it to be good. Really good.”

Burr chuckled heartily. 

“Well, young lady, everybody wants their movie to be good. Everybody wants to make something marvellous, no matter what the limits are. But you have to be mindful of those limits. I gave you one day to write a professional film script. Did you think that was fair of me?”

“Yes,” Lori said, much too quickly.

“Really?” he took off his glasses and chewed on the end of one of the arms, observing her face.

“Well...” Lori looked at her feet shyly, “I wish I had more time to make it better.”

“Of course. It was wasn’t very fair of me to expect a professionally written script in one day, especially not from beginners. But you only have two weeks to make an entire short film. That doesn’t leave much time for the writing process. Those are the limits we all have to work with.”

He handed her notebook back, and replaced his glasses in his pocket. 

“Young lady,” he went on softly, “I didn’t expect a masterpiece. I wanted an idea. An idea that you would then take away and work on and improve as the weeks go by, until you have a… a piece of work you are satisfied with. It won’t be a perfect work, it won’t be the best thing you ever make-at least, uhh, I hope not-but you will be able to look at it and be satisfied.”

Lori frowned down at the page. Was she satisfied with what she had done so far? It did seem to be missing… something?

“I know,” she said quietly, “but what if I don’t get another chance to prove myself? What if this is the only opportunity I ever have to make something all my own?”

“Forgive me, young lady,” Mr. Burr scraped the remaining papers off the lectern into his briefcase, “I never did ask you your name.”

“It’s Lori.”

“Well, Lori,” he placed the briefcase on to his lap and gripped the wheels of his chair, “do you know where the nearest coffee shop is?”

Lori was rather taken aback, “Oh, sure?”

“Would you mind helping me along? Some of the darn… uhh… ramps in this place are a little steep for me.”

“Alright.” 

She walked over to the door and opened it so he could wheel himself through, and then did the same for the outside doors, before gripping the handles on the back of his chair and beginning to push. He was surprisingly light. Lori supposed the suit made him look bigger than he really was.

“Really are tremendously nice folks in this part of the country…” he murmured to himself. “Well, Lori, do you know what I think?”

“What’s that?” Lori huffed, pushing him across a road running through the campus.

“I think you will always create. I think you will always create because it’s in your nature to be creative. I can tell that much by reading your work. But you should not create to prove yourself. Not to me. Not to anybody.”

Lori didn’t really know how to reply, but he went on anyway:

“See, Lori, you stayed up all night to perfect a script that never could be perfect, and ended up missing a valuable lesson. Well, I gave the lesson, so… uhh… I would like to think it was valuable,” he chuckled to himself quietly as Lori set off with him across a parched green square.

“I did get a valuable lesson from you, though,” Lori said earnestly. “A private one.”

“Sure, sure… but my point is, you acted contrary to your own interests, without even realising it.”

“Great, more self-doubt. Thanks,” Lori drawled, then back-pedalled quickly, “Oh wow, that was really rude, I am so sorry!”

“Think nothing of it,” Lori could hear the amusement in his voice, even though he kept looking straight ahead. “Let me ask you though, young lady, why did you use the idea you had?”

“Well,” Lori puffed, tackling a ramp outside the student center, which, indeed, was rather steep, and laden with sharp corners, “I got some inspiration from real life.”

“And it’s something close to your heart?”

“Not exactly. I guess… God, this ramp… I guess… it reminds me of home?”

“So your home is a big part of who you are?”

“Isn’t that true for everyone?”

“You don’t judge me by where I’m from, do you?”

“I don’t know where you’re from.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh.”

Lori thought for a moment as she finally crested the top of the ramp and the automatic doors at the peak swished open to allow them in. She could smell the coffee wafting out from inside.

Then, still somewhat out of breath, she said, “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Well, I was just thinking… thanks, uhh, Lori, I’ll be fine from here… maybe you would have more luck with your film if you made it about something that was close to your heart… close to your heart right now, while you’re away from home. What have you been thinking about lately?”

Lori knew the answer to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not far off the end now. I'll try to post the next chapter midweek, but I might be writing a little bit slower as the end approaches. Nonetheless, this story has been a real learning experience for me. For those of you who have read this far, I thank you.


	7. Lori goes for it

“Ellen,” Lori said softly, rapping on her friend’s dorm room door. “Are you in there?”

Lori heard a small thud from inside the room and then the door whipped open to reveal Ellen, glasses slightly askew.

“Lori!” she exclaimed, “Where were you this morning? Were you not feeling well? I would’ve checked on you, but I thought you’d just gone on ahead again…”

“It’s okay,” Lori consoled her, “I just overslept. And then I didn’t want to walk in late.”

“I understand. Late night?”

“Yeah.”

The two of them stood there at the door, one in, one out. Lori found her throat was dry and all of the words she had found on her way back to the dormitory refused to form into sentences.

“Ellen, could I sketch you?” she finally blurted out.

“Could you… what?” Ellen did a double-take.

“I want to sketch you,” Lori felt herself blushing.

“You mean for your movie?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I just want a picture.”

Ellen stared at her, and then, to Lori’s relief, giggled and opened the door wider. 

“Sure!” she said with a grin. “Sounds fun. And I’m flattered.”

Lori noted that Ellen was back in the plaid shirt and jeans combo today as she scurried inside. Ellen’s room was identical to her own, aside from her personal effects scattered over the desk, which included a neatly framed photograph of what Lori assumed to be her family, complete with an assortment of what looked like her younger siblings. She turned away from it sadly.

“Alright,” Ellen stood, hands on her hips, “Where do you want me?”

“I need good light to draw. So you should sit opposite the window. How about on the bed?”

“Okay, Lori,” Ellen placed herself down on the edge of the bed, hands on top of the covers on either side, leaning back with one leg crossed over the other. “Is that good?”

“Sure,” Lori sat down herself in Ellen’s desk chair and opened up her sketchbook. 

“So that’s it?” Ellen said teasingly as Lori began to draw, “You just came here to sketch me?”

Lori froze, her pencil mid-way through Ellen’s brow.

“What did you really want to come here for?”

Lori made sure to get the words right before she let them out, the pencil pressing into the page. 

“I want to make a movie with you. I mean, I want you to be my partner.”

Partner. That was an interesting word to choose, Lori realised. Not a bad one, but interesting.

“You mean…”

“I want the two of us to make our movie together. One movie. We could make it better together than either of us could alone.”

Ellen looked doubtful.

“I don’t know, Lori. We seem to like very different kinds of stories. You’re into horror and I…”

“I want to make a different story now. I want to forget about home, and cults and all the weird shit that happened to me back there. I want to make something that will remind me of right now.”

“Oh,” Ellen said simply, but she seemed slightly embarrassed. “And making something with me, that will remind you of ‘right now’?”

“Yes. But more than that, I want to make a movie…” she hesitated, “about you. About… us.”

“Us?”

“Yes.”

Lori went back to sketching in the intervening silence, heart in her mouth, unsure of what was going to happen next.

“Lori, I know this is a really personal question, but… do you... like girls?” Ellen suddenly seemed very bashful, frowning at the floor whilst chewing her lip.

It was happening. Lori found she didn’t really know how to reply. Should she deflect the question? Answer honestly? She couldn’t ignore it. After all, she knew what she had really come here for. But the terrible thought had suddenly occurred to her that maybe Ellen didn’t like girls at all. Maybe she was wasting her time, or, even worse, was actually exposing herself to someone who wouldn’t accept her. 

“Yeah,” Lori said casually, ignoring all of the garbage in her brain for once.

“Oh,” Ellen breathed, slowly raising her head up again. “That’s good.”

“Why is that good?” Lori gazed at her unmovingly, not sure if she dared hear the answer.

“Because,” Ellen uncrossed her legs and leaned closer, “I happen to like girls too.”

Their eyes locked. There was a long pause.

“And?” Lori said quietly.

“And…”

The moment of truth. Lori kept her eyes on Ellen’s.

“...I like you.”

Lori knew that already. Or she thought she did, looking back. At the extra attention Ellen paid to her, at the soft touch here and there, that seemed to be more than just friendly in nature. She knew that it made perfect sense for Ellen to like her, and she supposed that she wouldn’t have gone to her room the way that she did if she didn’t believe in some way that her feelings would be reciprocated.

But she still didn’t quite realise the magnitude of the moment when the words actually floated through the air to her eager ears.

She had no idea what to say.

And yet she had to say something.

So she smiled.

She gave what felt like the most genuine smile of her entire life.

And some of that incredible warmth must have radiated off of her face to Ellen, because she smiled too, every bit as warmly.

Lori let the sketchbook slip to one side, no longer paying attention to it, and moved to the bed, sitting right beside Ellen. She took the other girl’s hand in her own. Her grip was firm and reassuring, but her palm was a little sweaty, and Lori realised how nervous her friend must also have been. 

“I like you too, Ellen,” she replied and then added, “A lot.”

Ellen gazed at her sweetly before murmuring, “How long have you known?”

“That I liked you?”

“That you like girls.”

Lori thought for a minute, “Since a few years back, I guess. But back then I was too young to care about romance either way. I was happier being by myself. I told myself nobody would want to be seen with me anyway.”

“But you’re wonderful.”

“Well,” Lori took Ellen’s other hand and pulled her as close as she could, “no one ever told me I was wonderful before.”

“They should have.”

“To be honest, I’ve always been afraid of relationships.”

“Afraid?”

“Yeah. I was… worried, I guess. About how they would end. Usually with me fucking it all up. Or that’s how I imagined it.”

“Lori…” Ellen squeezed her hands tighter.

“But I don’t want to be afraid any more. Because now I’m not worried about the ending. Now I just want to enjoy the journey… while it lasts.”

“Lori…” Ellen whispered again, her face oh-so-close to Lori’s now. Her eyes looked watery, but proud and strong, not weak. “We’ll keep in touch when this is all over. I promise. I won’t forget you.”

“I couldn’t forget, even if I wanted to,” Lori murmured and she placed her hand very gently on Ellen’s cheek, stroking across it with her thumb. It was the first time she had touched anyone in such an intimate way and she could feel her hand quivering slightly. Her insides knotted like a forest full of roots. The two drew ever closer. She knew what was going to happen next, knew she couldn’t stop it happening now. 

And she didn’t want to.

Lori kissed Ellen.

She wasn’t sure if it lasted seconds or minutes, but all too quickly it was over.

Ellen smiled at her.

Lori had never felt better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got 7 chapters into this 8 chapter fic that has romance as a big part of it and then realised I have no idea how to write romance. Oh well, we're nearly done now, and I have plenty of ideas for NitW fics in the near(ish) future!
> 
> Also, if anyone is up for commenting, would you consider this fic to be a "slow-burn"? Just wondering if I should add more tags.


	8. Lori goes home

\--JUST UNDER TWO WEEKS LATER--

“Well, that was excellent,” Mr. Burr said approvingly from the front of the lecture hall.

Lori tried to shrink down into her seat, hoping it would open up and eat her whole, as the grand space swelled into applause. She had waited her entire life to show something she had created to other people and now that the time had come, she realised she didn’t want to actually be there to see them watching it. The last half-hour had been spent anxiously scanning the room, trying to gauge people’s reactions to the film that she had made with her… girlfriend? The word still seemed strange, even inside her own head.

The ranks of students had been silent throughout the whole showing until the very end. Lori twiddled her thumbs and fervently prayed that the applause was genuine, and not just the polite gesturing of bored late-teens who had already sat through nearly a dozen other films that day. Not to mention the day before. Their effort had ended up being the very last one to be shown, of course, so Lori had to deal with the crippling uncertainty for nearly two entire days more than the people whose films were shown earliest.

It had been less than two weeks since she and Ellen had become partners-in more ways than one-and the days since had been heaven. The days had passed like dreams in the wind, warm and filled with adventure. The two girls had spent most of their time working hard on their film together, writing, storyboarding, and, of course, filming. It had been tough at times-the two of them had to not only act, but direct themselves, but with Ellen’s support, Lori was sure it had been much easier than if she had tried to do everything herself. And, naturally, it had been much more fun, for both of them.

But Lori found herself increasingly dreading two things-having to show their work to everybody else, and, much more than that, the not-knowing what was going to happen when the course was over and everybody had to go home.

“Lori?” Ellen leaned over affectionately from the seat next to her, “You kind of spaced out for a second there. You okay?”

Lori swallowed nervously, “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Well then, are you ready?”

She offered Lori her hand. Lori took it and the couple gracefully walked down the steps to the front of the room, with Lori feeling her cheeks growing still redder. Less than two weeks since they had started dating, and she still couldn’t get used to the stares, when she walked hand in hand with her girlfriend. Wherever they went, coffee shops, around campus, they attracted attention. Lori felt exposed, judged. But for the first time in her life, she felt it didn’t really matter.

As long as she could be with the one she cared about the most.

They arrived at the lectern, next to Mr. Burr, who nodded a welcome, grey hair bobbing up and down in time with the motion.

“Wow, girls, that was… uhh… really something. I can tell you two worked really hard on this together.”

“Thanks!” Ellen grinned, puffing her chest out proudly. Lori just performed an awkward mixture of a bow and a wave, saying nothing. 

“So, uhh, what inspired you in the creation of this piece of work?” Burr tapped his fingers on the arms of his wheelchair.

“Ourselves, I guess,” Ellen laughed, bouncing on her feet bashfully. “This is our story.”

“Oh, I see! So you two are… together?” he sat up in his seat. “That’s really sweet. I still remember when I was in love as a young man for the first time… of course, I was better looking back then,” he chuckled to himself.

Lori subtly gave Ellen an amused look and received an equal one in return. Turning to hide her face as she tried not to laugh, she heard their teacher go on.

“Well, I think that’s all we have time for today… or should I say, that’s all we have time for, period. I’m afraid to say, with that last film there, our time together has come to an end… well, for now. It may be the case that I’ll be seeing some of you again soon enough if you progress into the film world. As I hope you all will, since you have been exceptionally fine students… uh-huh, sure are good folks around here.”

And with that, he wheeled himself straight out of the building and disappeared.

“Hmm,” Ellen twisted her lip irritably. “He didn’t actually give us our grade. I’d better go after him.”

She strode out determinedly. Lori began to follow, but hesitated at the door, and then decided to lag behind. She needed some time to think. About how she was going to say goodbye.

Sure, she kept telling herself, it was easy, nowadays, to keep in contact over the internet, or via phone. But Lori knew she would miss the physical closeness of her relationship with Ellen. They had spent nearly all day, every day together. Thinking about going from that to being miles and hours apart left Lori feeling cold and empty.

“Lori,” Max caught up with her outside the lecture theatre, closely followed by George. “Great performance up there.”

“Oh, thanks,” Lori said vaguely, looking out the window.

“You okay?” Max tilted her head to one side.

Lori shook her head to clear her mind. She turned to face her friends.

“Sorry. Just thinking. This is going to be the last day we all see each other, isn’t it?”

Max smiled sadly, “It is for me, at least. Like I said before, I’m not coming back anytime soon.”

“I have other plans, personally,” George folded his arms. “I’m not sure that making films is really for me after all. I think I prefer just watching them.”

“Fair enough,” Lori shrugged, “It would be good to see you again sometime though.”

“Really?” George looked surprised.

“Yeah. You’re alright, George. Just need to loosen up a bit.”

“Hmph,” he tried to hide it, but Lori could tell he was rather pleased.

“Well, guys,” Max put one big arm around each of their backs, “time for one last night out before we all go home tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Lori said thoughtfully. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Just the four of us, one last time.”

“Where did Ellen go, by the way?” Max asked, and Lori caught the faintly teasing tone in her voice.

“Went chasing after that old guy. He forgot to actually grade our film.”

“Ah, right.”

There was an awkward silence. Max’s arms stayed in place.

“So,” she continued, “you and her, huh? I mean, I noticed you were close, but…”

“Yeah, we’re going out. Or we were. Are. I dunno. It’s complicated, what with me having to go back to Possum Springs tomorrow.”

“I understand.”

“Hey, guys!” Ellen bounced back in. “Thought I’d come see if you were still here. I loved your movie, George. Really tense.”

“Oh, thanks,” George looked flustered, “I, uh, actually prefered Max’s effort. ‘Hometown Alonetown’. Very novel.”

“Really?” Max looked suspicious, and lowered her hands at last. “I didn’t think that sort of thing would really be up your street.”

“Well, it wouldn’t… usually. But yours was rather good,” he looked uncomfortable.

“Amazing what you find yourself enjoying when you let yourself go a little,” Ellen said sardonically.

“Alright, guys,” Lori interjected, “We going out to eat, or what?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, it’s here,” Lori said softly as the coach pulled up the next morning.

The sun was still low in the sky, but she could tell it was going to be another hot day. She was almost looking forward to getting on the cool, air-conditioned coach, except for the fact that it meant leaving her girlfriend behind, who was currently standing next to her on the side of the road outside the reception building, bags at their feet.

Lori had clung on to breakfast time, hoping it would last forever. She had sauntered across the road to the reception building and dilly-dallied returning her keys. But, inevitably, time keeps moving at its own pace, and all good things must come to an end.

So she turned to look Ellen in the eyes for what she knew would be the last time in… months? A year? More? She didn’t know. She just had to hold on to hope that they would meet again.

“You’ll text?” Ellen smiled weakly.

“Sure. Or message you on chattrBox. Phone signal is pretty awful back home.”

“Let me know when you’re home?”

“Alright, Mom.”

Ellen laughed, “Okay, okay, I get your point. But really,” she gave Lori a peck on the cheek and then hugged her close, “take care of yourself.”

“I’ll try,” Lori’s lip quivered as she buried her nose in the other girl’s hair. She still smelled of strawberries. Her one hand was comforting on Lori’s back and the other was wrapped tight around her shoulders, keeping her safe from the whole world.

She wished she could stay in that embrace forever.

But then the hug ended, and the world came back in, and the coach was still waiting.

Time to go.

“I love you,” Lori whispered and kissed her girlfriend one last time.

“Love you too, Lori,” Ellen murmured, and stroked her cheek with a little grin. “Now go. And if you ever feel lonely back home… call me. I’ll be right here. Waiting.”

“Thanks,” Lori started and then she found she didn’t really know what else to say. So she just choked, “Goodbye,” and slowly gathered up her bag and climbed on to the bus.

Ellen was still standing there when Lori glanced out of the window after stowing her bag and sitting down near the back. She continued to stand there as the coach drifted away from the campus buildings, back towards the highway. One last gaze and a wave passed between them, and then she was gone.

But Lori kept staring out of the window as the vehicle took her home, back along the highway until the concrete jungle turned into green forest again. She kept staring until she fell asleep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Miss? You’re here. It’s your stop.”

She jolted awake. The driver was looking back at her from the front of the bus.

“Oh,” she rubbed her eyes with her hands. “Thanks. Sorry.”

She pulled her bag from underneath the seat where she had thrust it and stumbled off down the aisle and stepped back outside.

Here she was. Home again.

Back in Possum Springs.

The bus station looked as disused as ever, even in the remnants of the afternoon sunlight. But she had to admit, it was nice to see the forest and the fields spreading out before her again, green and lush. She was already looking forward to the Fall, when it would all turned golden and red.

She was pleasantly surprised to see that her father had turned up in his car. He knew what day she was coming home, but she wasn’t sure if he would come to see her home or not.

“Good time?” he asked simply as she got in.

“Yeah,” she replied. She wasn’t ready to tell him just how good it was yet.

“It’s been quiet.”

Lori wasn’t sure if that was his way of saying “I missed you” or not, but she decided to just take it.

She opened up her bag and took out her sketchbook. Opening to a page she had bookmarked around the middle, she found what she was looking for.

The completed sketch of Ellen, sitting on the bed, from almost two weeks ago.

She held it close to her chest for a moment, trying not to cry. She didn’t want her father to think anything was wrong.

“So, are you thinking of heading back next year?” her father continued.

Lori wasn’t sure what his angle was. Was he probing because he didn’t want her to leave again? Or was he actually trying to be supportive? Lori didn’t know, and she realised it didn’t matter, because she already had an answer ready.

She looked at the drawing on the page again and took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally did it. It's done. What do you think? It's been an interesting journey over these past few weeks-can't remember if I said this already, but I've never written a chapter based story before, so it took quite a bit out of me. 
> 
> That said, I have SO many ideas for NitW fics right now, and I'm far from burned out on writing, so hopefully I'll have more to share with you sometime soon! Expect them to be significantly shorter stories though, for the most part. They'll also be focusing much, much more on existing NitW characters instead of OCs, if that's more your jam.


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